


Let's Play 'Bad Cons and Good Bots’

by InuShiek



Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: M/M, Memories, Shattered Glass, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While he waits for Optimus Prime to wake, Megatron takes a few minutes to reflect on his first few hours in this strange universe where the Decepticons are not the loyal and honorable soldiers he knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Play 'Bad Cons and Good Bots’

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://inushiek.tumblr.com/post/92390026923/can-you-imagine-how-sparkbroken-sg-megatron-would) b/c I randomly got shattered glass feelings
> 
> I have no idea where the SG feels came from, but i had like 9 in rapid fire

The first mech he’d seen when he’d woken up was Thundercracker. Well…at least he was pretty sure it had been Thundercracker. The voice and frame were right, but the paint was all wrong…and then….

“You’d better get up before Starscream sees you and finishes you off,” the seeker had said casually.

“Finish me off?” Megatron had echoed, confused.

Thundercracker released a snort of laughter, “Did whatever singe your paint scramble your processors too? Starscream? Emperor of ‘I’m The New Leader’ speeches? Maybe he _should_ finish you off.”

His helm had ached, fiercely so, but none of it had made any sense. Megatron shook his helm and struggled to his feet. “What happened to you?”

That had seemed to genuinely confuse the seeker. “What?”

“You’re…..blue…and your optics….”

He’d stiffened for a brief moment, seeming to really look at Megatron for the first time. Before the confused mech could react, Thundercracker had made two strides toward him and wrapped both hands around his throat. “Who are you?” the seeker hissed, glaring into Megatron’s soft blue optics.

“Thundercracker, you’re hurting me,” Megatron forced out, grasping the seeker’s wrists.

That only made the seeker’s turbines whir as his expression darkened and his grip tightened around Megatron’s neck. He couldn’t help but be frightened. What had he done to upset his friend so much? But….this couldn’t be his friend. Thundercracker wouldn’t do this…and those optics….they look like an Autobot’s…..

So Megatron reacted. He had punched the seeker in the cockpit with enough force to crack the glass, which he regretted, but Thundercracker released him. And Megatron fled.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to face whoever that was again, because it certainly hadn’t been Thundercracker. The strange paint scheme he could look past, but there was something awful about those optics… The way they had seemed to burn with hate as the seeker tightened his fists around Megatron’s neck…

Then something had hit him in the side of the head, which he later learned had been Ironhide’s foot, and Megatron noted Thundercracker transforming and flying away as he fell to the dirt and his vision faded.

When he’d woken up, it didn’t take long for him to realize that he was in the Autobots’ brig, but it was certainly brighter than he imagined it would be….and orange.

“Did you really think a paint job would fool us, Megatron?” his guard had snorted, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, and looking bored.

“Sunstreaker?” Megatron had blurted disbelievingly. It had to be Sunstreaker- no other bot could have a helm like that and make it look anything but ridiculous- but he was… _gold_.

“Obviously,” the mech rolled his optics. His blue optics.

The Decepticon belatedly processes the question Sunstreaker had asked him, and he looked down at his own frame. His paint was the same color it had been for millennia, though granted it was dirty and scratched from his tumble into unconsciousness. When he’d said as much, casting his gaze back at Sunstreaker, the Autobot had blinked as his expression shifted.

Tilting his helm, Sunstreaker asked, “Did Ironhide kick you harder than we thought? He’s been bragging about knocking you out cold all day, but Ratchet didn’t think there was lasting damage.”

“Ironhide?” Megatron echoed. “And he didn’t finish what he started?”

At that, Sunstreaker laughed outright. “He certainly wanted to. Would have saved us a heap of trouble, but Optimus wouldn’t let him.”

Megatron had frowned at that, processors racing as his spark twisted in fear. He’d never known Optimus Prime not to go for the kill, and for Ironhide to not take a limb or appendage for a souvenir? Something was very wrong. “And why did Thundercracker attack me…” he muttered to himself, but apparently loudly enough for his guard to overhear.

“Obviously Screamer got Thundercracker on his side. It was only a matter of time.”

And so, determined to get to the bottom of things, Megaton had steeled himself and requested to meet Optimus Prime.

As different as Thundercracker and Sunstreaker had seemed to him, the Prime is the one who really shocked the Decepticon. The Optimus he knew had been his friend until he’d been given the Matrix. It had corrupted Orion Pax into the sadistic Prime that Megatron struggled to protect the innocent from.

This….

This was not the Optimus he knew.

Optimus approached the cell and had silently studied Megatron. He didn’t speak, waiting for the captive Decepticon to say what he wished first.

Before he realized it, Megatron had stood and walked half way to the Prime even as his spark churned in fear. He forced himself to keep walking until he was close enough to touch the Autobot leader.

As he reached out, Megatron noted the way Sunstreaker tensed and held his blaster a little tighter, but he didn’t hesitate until his palm was pressed flat against the Prime’s chassis. He could feel the Matrix and the mech’s spark thrumming beneath his hand, and they were _warm_ and _bright_.

Megatron smiles now, hugging the leg in his grasp tighter. He’d managed to convince Optimus to at least read his backlog of reports in the berth so that, when he finally fell into recharge, he wouldn’t be slumped over his desk and in need of a realignment from Ratchet in the morning. Megatron had moved farther down the berth so that he could hug the Prime’s leg and leave the red and blue mech’s arms free for work. It’s early in the morning, and Optimus’s vents are still half shuttered and making a clatter every time the fans within whir to life. Optimus himself is still very unconscious, leaving Megatron time to reflect as he studies the Prime’s frame.

At that first meeting, with Megatron in a cell, they’d spoken for hours. It had quickly become clear to all involved that Megatron was not where he belonged. Perceptor had been brought down to the brig, and had hypothesized that whatever blast had knocked Megatron unconscious before he woke up to Thundercracker standing above him must have sent him to this universe. The scientist had never heard of such a thing happening before, of course, but Megatron had explained that Starscream and the Constructicons had been working on a way to create wormholes that would transport them to energy-rich places in the galaxy and hopefully give them an edge in holding off the Autobot advance.

They’d looked confused by his statement, and Perceptor asked him to elaborate on “advance.” The scientist had excused himself when Megatron spoke of some of the experiments that the other Perceptor had done. Sunstreaker had held up his hand to stop the Decepticon from speaking when he heard his name mentioned. Optimus had listened patiently, which was a virtue that Megatron learned the Prime had near infinite amounts of.

He was afraid of what he would learn of this universe’s Decepticons, but Megatron listened as both Optimus Prime and Sunstreaker told him of some of the things Starscream alone had done.

“Starscream? But…he would never… The Starscream I know is so gentle and caring….”

“Two words never used to describe this Starscream- not even by Skyfire before they got separated,” Sunstreaker pointed out.

Megatron shivers at the memory before he hears the Prime’s systems whirring online. “Morning,” he murmurs, delivering a quick kiss to the mech’s white hip plating, still hugging one of his long legs.

“Morning? I hope I did not wake you with my snoring,” Optimus says, sounding embarrassed. He’d been unaware that he even snored until the first night Megatron had shared his berth.

“You didn’t,” Megatron assures him. “I was just thinking about my first day here. Things still seem….surreal… Even after all this time.”

Optimus props himself up on his elbows so he can look down at the mech. With a rare devious glint in his optics, the Prime teases, “We could always play ‘Bad Bots and Good Cons,’ as I believe you called it once, to take your mind off of it.”

Megatron schools his expression into a neutral one before he releases his hold on Optimus Prime’s leg and climbs up the berth to crouch over the mech. “I think I’d rather like to try ‘Bad Cons and Good Bots’ this time,” he says, unable to completely keep the grin off of his faceplates as he grasps the Prime’s wrists and gently moves to pin them above his helm.


End file.
